Longing
by jenyme
Summary: SLASH Sometimes, there are situations in life that leave you unfulfilled, wishing for more. But what can you do? Series of ficlets.
1. In And Out

Warning: Contains SLASH! Pairings: Eomer/Legolas

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkein. What occurs is purely fiction and I mean no disrespect

**  
In and Out**

The sea is a body of tears that spreads to the horizon where blue meets blue. Its rivers feed it the sorrows of the earth that run deep beneath the sand. Its depth sings the siren song, steals your soul; surging waves never sleep.

A wash of shadow lulls you into loving shades. A shimmer, a shiver, and you are lost as water gushes and ebbs; leaves you numb.

Trapped. Blue webs bind your feet like a broken tangle of branches; grow like veins; winding, entwining like a parasitic vine.

Turquoise tides pull you in; sapphire throws you out. But you are anchored by these tendrils, dark against your fair skin, while spirits call to your heart. Clenching, unclenching, clasping, constricting, tightening, tearing. Painful. You cannot breathe.

The dagger in the air becomes inviting.

The wind rests senseless against your ears and you are deaf to all but the song. And it dances to the tune. Ebony strands weave strong and willfully; a beautiful pattern against white porcelain that etches to your throat, choking you. Sinewy limbs clutch your heart and lungs, squeezing with each pump. Blood streams. You are mute and blind. Your eyes are void of reality; you see only the hypnotising depths of green and blue: the heart of the ocean. Paralysing.

You are pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled; ensnared in its power. Callously unfeeling. Cold.

A pulse. A defeat. Nothing.

A hand upon your shoulder. A barely perceptible caress along your neck and down your spine loosens the suffocating tendrils.

"Legolas, where are you?"

Nowhere. Everywhere. (Where am I?)

i "Prince Imrahil has invited us to Dol Amroth." /i

The Sea.

Warmth diffuses across membranes. Pressure increases along your back, over arms, around you, envelops you, loves you. The Sun guides you back to the hand. They are familiar hands.

Lips. Familiar lips; against your hair, your ears and your cheeks. Smell. The scent of a lover.

Grass, not salt. Smiles, not tears.

You let go, knowing that he will not let you drown.


	2. Green and GreyBlue

Warning: Contains SLASH! Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Aragorn/Arwen, Eomer/Legolas

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tolkein. What occurs is purely fiction and I mean no disrespect

A/N AU, thus in _my_ world Aragorn has grey-blue eyes and Legolas has green ones

**Green and Grey-Blue**

Grey-blue eyes locked with green ones.

The distance that separated them was too great.

White-gold was not against walnut but entwined with flaxen.

Pale hands rested upon Rohan's King; not Gondor's.

Sensuous lips moved against cheeks that were not his.

And still green eyes remained locked with grey-blue.

Across the dance floor, with every twirl and spin, their connection never faltered.

What was it that he saw in them? Challenge? Longing? Regret? Hate? Was he happy in the arms of another?

He'd never know his touch again, for he forfeited it when he pledged his vows to the wrong elf.

**I Watch Him Watch Another**

_Arwen's POV_

I watch him watch another.

And when _he_ is out of sight, I watch him wait for another meeting.

Another chance.

I watch him dream of another.

When his body is buried in mine, I watch his eyes darken. Yet I know that though it is my body that will bear his heirs; it is another's body that he longs to lose himself in.

I watch him watch _him_ dance with another.

And when _his_ lips touch another's, I watch him reach for his own as he remembers when those lips were once upon his.

I watch him avert his eyes.

When an invitation comes, I watch him reject it. It is the fifth one he has turned down. And I know it is not for the reasons he has given them, but for the plain fact that he cannot bear to see them together.

I watch him fall to pieces.

And when the letter comes that announces their bonding, I watch him lose what he had once represented: _Estel_

**Why You, Not Me?**

_Aragorn's POV_

You stand beside him. Protective. Possessive.

And he humours you. His laughter rings melodious in these halls, crisp as morning bells; its echo unheard of under the shadows; unheard of even to the ears of this weary ranger.

What is it that you whisper to make him shiver so?

Your caresses are reverent; you worship him; touch him like he is fragile. But he is no porcelain doll. He's fought many more wars than the suns you've seen risen.

What have you done to deserve this perfect being? You, a lesser King?

Does he love you as he loves me?

* * *

Please Review. I'd love to know what you think.


	3. Melancholy

Warning: Implied Slash

How do you stop the passage of time? That which is as fickle as grains of sand flowing through your fingers with the ocean breeze; intangible like the air currents upon which autumn leaves rustle...

It was not fated to be so; an elf and a mortal lover. Because time could not be stopped as one inevitably watched the other go frail.

Would Valinor be a sanctuary? A safe haven promised by the whispering waves; would it soothe the pain of heartache, wash away the memories?

Yet as he holds you ever close, you wonder.

How do you say goodbye?


End file.
